


The Healing Process

by thisaintmacys



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Almost Lovers Trope (Bethyl), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Desus - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, On Hiatus, Past Abuse, Semi-Canon Compliant, darus - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:26:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisaintmacys/pseuds/thisaintmacys
Summary: For these two very different men, with seemingly different lives, things are about to change when they realize they're not so different after all. Especially, when it comes to the reasons behind the marks on their bodies.( On a brief hiatus until inspiration returns. Check back soon! )





	1. What We Get Ain't Always What We Deserve

**Author's Note:**

> This story discusses child abuse and neglect. If this is too hard of a subject for you to read about in-depth, please don't damage yourself by reading, and getting triggered in the process. Needless to say, you've been warned and that's the only content warning you will get through out the story. Also, yes, Daryl did have feelings for Beth but no they were not together and he does talk about it in this story. If that bothers you, I'm sorry, but he talks about Rick and Carol in the same light too.

Night had fallen once more over the skies of Virginia and Jesus was sitting in propped against the wall of the den, inside an abandoned two story home. Across from him was a visibly itchy and annoyed, restless Daryl Dixon. It was well into the night but Daryl kept rustling around and Jesus could tell that the other needed to relax. 

"How about a shower for once in your life? All that dirt has to be itchy," the azure eyed man commented half-jokingly as he watched. Sure, he could be snarky but he wasn't half the spitfire that Daryl could be. Daryl sat up, furrowed his eyes and wondered why the other would even bother to suggest such a thing. "C'mon, you keep moving around going after one itch or another, you're uncomfortable." He added, testing the other's patience as Daryl let out a huff.

"What's it gonna matter?" Daryl asked, knowing he would end up covered in dirt, sweat, blood, and God only knew what else. "I'll just get dirty again by tomorrow. I'm sweatin' like a hog, right now." Daryl concluded through gritted teeth, his annoyance was ever present and so Jesus did the only thing he knew, he grabbed spare clothes he had taken from a store earlier that day. 

Daryl's eyes locked on the blue denim button down and the fresh pair of jeans. They were nice, really nice, and admittedly he wanted them deep down. Still, he was one to assume he didn't deserve nice things, unless he got them himself through his own hard work.

"I'm not giving you these until you clean up. You smell like swamp ass!" Jesus finally spat back as he held up a denim shirt and a pair of jeans, that were just about Daryl's size.

"Really, I can smell your scent for miles, Daryl." 

"Fuck you, Rovia." Daryl retorted, though he knew the other man was absolutely right. He did smell, he could smell himself, but by now he had gotten used to not being as clean as he was before the break out.

"Don't be like that! What'd ya say, Pigpen?" 

"Keep watch. Get me if some jackass decides to break in; dead or alive." Daryl grumbled.

"I can handle it."

Without further hesitation, Daryl spitefully got up and walked to the bathroom inside the home, which luckily still had running water. Some homes were just like that after the outbreak and the two had been lucky enough to find one. Inside the linen closet, he pulled out two fluffy white towels, and a wash cloth. He grabbed the wash cloth then got inside the shower, with nothing but moonlight, and the flashlight he carried with him from the den. Rovia, admittedly, was good for a few things like finding useful tools or equipment they could benefit from. The flashlights were a nice find that evening and they helped as time passed that night. 

Jesus, however, he was merely impressed with Daryl actually deciding to take a shower by his convincing. Daryl had been in the shower for fifteen minutes and Paul decided it was time to hand over the clothes he got for the older man. Instead of startling Daryl, causing the other to go on the defense, thinking something was wrong - he entered the bathroom and took in the sight before him. 

The mirror was covered in steam, Daryl was standing in front of it with a sadness in his eyes, as he looked at his now clean self. His hair, beneath the glow of the moonlight was a very dark brown instead of black, but further south he could see why the other didn't like showering. The man was covered in scars; scars that looked like Jesus' very own across his back and abdomen. Daryl was covered, not just along his back but the back of his legs as well and Rovia now knew more than he needed to. 

Realizing a pair of eyes were locked tightly onto him, Daryl quickly turned in defense and furrowed his brow, while staring down the other man. He knew that Jesus was a gay man, it hadn't bothered him before that moment, when they were alone and Daryl was exposed except for the towel around his waist. "What in the hell do you think you're doin'?" Daryl barked, it was the loudest Paul had ever heard him speak before, including when they first met. 

"Taking in the fact that we're not so different." Paul stated, his eyes wandering back to the scars to try to clue Daryl in. "I'm not checking you out, Daryl; I just, I, think we have something in common." Paul admitted, letting his guard down and Daryl took a step back from the man to turn to look into the mirror.

"Doubt it."

"Ain't nothing to doubt." Rovia commented, by the time he had spoken he had shed the top layers of his clothing leaving him in his jeans and boots. "See what I mean?" Jesus asked, his eyes looking down at all the marks along his body, but to him they were just something that meant he had a past he had clearly overcome.

"I was brutally beaten as a preteen; got caught looking at gay porn, downloading videos and images, when my computer messed up. My dad took the computer to get it fixed, found out the problem, and after that he decided to try to cure me. I went to two camps, they didn't work, so he tried it himself by beating me every time I defied him." Paul explained himself, Daryl listened in silence and Jesus couldn't tell if that was a good thing or if it was a bad thing, but he knew something had to be going on in the other man's mind. "It looks like you got the hell beat outta you a few times, too." 

"I did." Daryl admitted, feeling a lump form in his throat and his eyes remained locked on what would had been dark green tile along the bathroom sink, if it were daylight. 

Cautiously stepping forward, Paul moved to place his hand onto Daryl's shoulder and the other relaxed instead of growing tense. It wasn't like him to allow someone to just touch him, especially bare skin on skin contact, but Daryl felt oddly at ease which made his heart sink. "Can I?" Jesus asked, Daryl didn't speak but he did nod his head in response to show Jesus it was okay to touch the scars. They were practically numb from potential nerve damage from the beatings anyway.

Jesus ran his fingers along the various scars and sighed heavily. "You're not... are you?" He asked, Daryl then clenched his jaw but he remembered that he was safe, despite his bodies reaction that was ready for a fight. Instead of saying anything, Daryl looked up tearfully and locked eyes with the other man through the bathroom mirror.

"Well, you didn't deserve this," Jesus spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he moved his hand away to pat the clothes he left for the other man on the counter. "I'm always here if you want a friend to talk to that will understand." He added, he then remembered that Aaron and Daryl were also fairly close to one another. "Does anyone else know?"

"No. You best keep it that way or I'll break your fuckin' jaw, Rovia."

"I would never out you; this...it's between us until you're ready to tell the others."

Daryl sighed, nodded, and let Jesus leave the room so he could get dressed to head back to hopefully find Rick and the rest of his family.

 


	2. Looking Back

The tension and silence in the room was enough to drive both men crazy. Once Daryl had finished getting dressed, he let Jesus shower after him, while he stood watch over the younger man. Something had been in the back of his mind since just an hour before, he sighed softly and then spoke up, causing the two to lock eyes as Daryl relaxed in the recliner next to the couch where Jesus was laying. Now fully clothed and mostly dry, give or take a few strands of hair, as they remained awake through the night. "Daryl, did anyone ever know about this, well, before me?" Jesus questioned, Daryl remained quiet as he thought back to his brother and how - while Merle was also beaten - it usually was for other reasons inside the Dixon household. 

Exhaling a breath, Daryl shrugged as he bit down on a hangnail to rip it from his thumb before answering. "Yeah," Daryl confessed, "Merle, my older brother, knew that I liked whoever I wanted to like but I've always been more attracted to guys. I hallucinated him helping me after a fall once, I was hurt real bad, and I heard him ask me if I was Rick's 'bitch' now; he used to say shit like that all the time." Daryl rambled, thinking back on memories with his older brother and how despite his views, he was always softhearted about the situation with Daryl - even with his teasing. 

"I remember he'd say shit like 'Bitch seat, Daryl! C'mon now!' if I had to ride with him on his bike at all," Daryl managed a very quiet chuckle as he stared off into space, his mind deep into thought as he remembered Merle, and he knew deep down that he missed him. Feeling his heart tug, a knot formed in his throat again, and he remembered what Beth had once said to him. She was right, he missed Merle. "I wish I could have him back; he always protected me when we were kids. Took the blame for a lot of shit, got beat, then when he left I was there to fend for myself. Being as emotional as I was, my dad beat the hell out of me, tryin' to get me to be more of a man but it only made me wish he was dead." The archer concluded bitterly, he wasn't sure why he was telling Paul all these things but he knew he could trust him now, because they had something in common at least.

"I see." Jesus spoke softly, sounding as if he had really understood what Daryl went through. "I had to learn to fight around age ten, I took karate because I was not interested in traditional sports, and I needed to protect myself at school. Somehow, people knew I was different, so even if I was escaping one Hell by going there - I went home to another." Jesus admitted, furrowing his brow as he remembered some of the playground fights he got into, which lead to several suspensions and more beatings until one day he came to school with two cracked ribs. That was when he was put into foster care. "Eventually, I came to school with my ribs cracked and found myself living in several group homes until I was eighteen, because no one wanted a gay teenage son to adopt. Right?" 

Daryl looked up with a sadness in his eyes. "I know this ain't like me one bit but I'm sorry I was such a jackass when I met you," he admitted, honestly he was just scared of the attractive man and Rick figuring it out, but Rick had known long ago around the time they had met. Daryl never made a move on anyone; not Lori, Maggie, or even Carol. He stuck to his side like glue instead. 

"Why did you save me?" Jesus inquired, his icy blue hues narrowing as he tried to figure out their history.

Daryl shrugged in response. That was all he could manage to do. 

"Tell me, Dixon."

"I knew you weren't a bad guy, because you didn't seem to mean any harm to Rick or me, but I wanted to protect Rick - y'know?" Daryl confessed, mumbling as he spoke the words. 

"Oh-hoh, I get it!" Jesus exclaimed, his tone filled with amusement and Daryl felt his cheeks flush red.

"It ain't like that, Rovia!" Daryl snapped, tossing an old People Magazine at the other. Paul laughed as he dodged the magazine from hitting him. "Cut tha crap, alright?" 

"Nah, yeah - it's like that. You want Rick." Jesus continued to taunt Daryl jokingly, laughing as he got up to move away from Daryl once the man stood up, he could see anger in his eyes.

Daryl stepped in closer, narrowing in, as he pinned the other man to the wall. "I said, it ain't like that, you prick." 

"Prove it."

For a moment, Daryl blanked as he looked into the other man's eyes, as the feeling of being pulled in rushed over him. Instead of saying another word or sulking off like he usually would, Daryl held Paul in place, and pressed their lips together. His hand moving to the back of Paul's neck instinctively, the younger man's eyes fluttered shut and immediately the kiss deepened, as the two realized this had been coming on for some time. Their chemistry was strong, there was no denying that, and the bond they had created when Paul saved Daryl back at the Sanctuary only showed the two of them this was meant to happen. A peculiar yet still somewhat familiar rushed over Daryl as they stood intertwined, kissing in the darkness, their breathing slow and steady for a few moments before they pulled away.

"Did that shut you up, Rovia?" Daryl asked, breathlessly as they remained standing there. Realizing he was feeling a little aroused, a familiar fluttering in his lower abdomen causing him to want to do more, even if he was inexperienced and still not ready for that level of intimacy. 

"Was it _ever_ Rick?"

Daryl sighed and nodded. "Yeah but we're more brotherly now; he has Michonne and he deserves a woman like her - she's strong, doesn't need him, and she's great to his kids." Daryl confessed. 

"Do you have a history with anyone else?"

"No, not really, just with one person but we never, uh, happened. She's not with us anymore," Daryl admitted, suddenly realizing how he really had a thing for people with blue eyes. Especially if they were sky blue like Beth, Rick, or Jesus' own. Paul could say the same; his main attraction to Daryl's features were those deep sapphire blue, cat like eyes. "She was killed. She was Maggie's sister, Beth."

"I see. I get the feeling that attraction doesn't come easy for a man like you, does it?" 

"No, it don't, not at all. I have to trust em', feel comfortable with em', before I let em' in like that. Rick, he had potential but from the start he acted like I was his brother, and I knew it wouldn't happen, but he became my brother too. Beth, well, she was young - probably about nineteen or so when we were last together. I was gettin' attached, she was surprised by that but then she was taken from me, and killed right in front of me." Daryl explained in a long ramble.

"Anyone else?"

"No. My best friend, Carol, she had a thing for me for a while but we never fucked around or anything. She fell for me for the wrong reasons; I cared about her but I didn't want to be with her, she was healing from losing her daughter and from a past that never shoulda happened." Daryl continued to open up, this was probably the most he had talked in ages, if ever in his entire life while the two stood there alone in the dimly lit den. "Hopefully she's with Rick by now and safe." 

"I hope so, too. I would like to meet her." Paul admitted with a small smile.

"That kiss.... it meant nothin'; don't get your hopes up, Rovia." Daryl stated, finally moving to sit back down once his taste of mild sexual arousal had faded away. 

"Then why are you opening up to me so much? I think we're friends, at least."

"It's because you won't shut the fuck up and go to sleep, Paul." Daryl spat, Jesus laughed and rolled his eyes then motioned for the couch.

"Go sleep over there, you need it tonight and I'll take the chair."

"I like the chair."

"Fine, I won't argue. Goodnight, Daryl."

"Yeah, 'night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be a very long one with descriptions of graphic violence in some parts. So, settle in, it's going to hit the 5,000 word mark and that's a lot to read.


	3. The Road Ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recommend listening to the following songs in this order when you're reading this chapter to set some mood: "Wicked Ones" by Dorothy, "Rubik's Cube" by Athlete, "I Gave it All" by Aquillo, "I'll Be Good" by Jaymes Young. This is not as long as I thought it would be, I thought it would drag on too much, and I think the 5,000 mark I wanted to hit can be split into two. So another chapter of shenanigans while traveling? Sounds much better to me. Enjoy!

The following morning, the two awoke after the sun had risen, painting shades of pink and orange along the early morning Virginia sky. Opening their eyes, both men sat up and silently looked at each other, as they awoke. It took an hour for them to speak up but when they did, it was because they had to know where they were going, and how they would get there. Luckily, Jesus knew the way to lead them ahead to either the Hilltop or Alexandria; it was Daryl's call.

"I'm drivin'!" Paul cheerfully exclaimed as he got on the bike, Daryl looked at the other man as he tried to figure out if he was serious, but instead if questioning him - he got on the back of the bike. He could practically hear Merle cackling in laughter, making jokes, but he chose to ignore his memories and look forward to a better day ahead. Daryl let out a grunt then sat down on the back of the bike, following Paul's lead, as he started the engine. "Alexandria or Hilltop?" Jesus asked, just to make sure Daryl didn't have some reason to go elsewhere instead of back home.

"Alexandria." Daryl stated calmly in response, Jesus nodded his head and Daryl got as comfortable as possible, as the bike took off in the direction of Alexandria. Luckily, Jesus had been through this area before and knew two routes that would get them to either location, without any trouble from any of the Saviors. 

"How long is this gonna take?" Daryl asked, knowing they were pretty far out into the countryside, with not much else surrounding them. 

"We'll be there soon, just relax, and keep an eye out back there!" Jesus replied, Daryl grew quiet as he kept his arms wrapped around the other man, seeing as how he didn't have much choice. 

* * *

 "What'd you do before all this shit went down?" Daryl asked, wanting to know more about the mysterious man he had been travelling with, and not to mention came out to the night before.

"I was a martial artist, self-defense instructor, and semi-professional illusionist," Paul explained over the hum of the bike beneath him. Though the view surrounding the two was incredible, Paul couldn't help but to glance at Daryl through the mirrors attached to the bike. "Illusions and martial arts had been my hobbies since childhood; so I made them into professions. I was well known in the D.C. area for doing magic tricks, I guess I was like the local Criss Angel, and that's how I was given the nickname Jesus by some of my friends. They said I could escape from anything; even my own grave." Rovia spoke fondly of his past, not bothering to fight the smile forming on his lips as he thought of the things he used to do, and how much he enjoyed life after he left home at seventeen to go to college.

"So, does that mean you can float in the air?" Daryl asked, though his tone was flat as a pancake, he was clearly sarcastically joking because a smile finally broke through at the thought of the other doing such a weird act. Then again, for Paul Rovia, that wouldn't be such a weird thing at all. He was a weird guy in general but Daryl was starting to like that about him.

"Not without the right equipment, Smartass!" Rovia replied with a smile, sneaking a peek at the friend on the back of the bike as they rode along the dirt backroads of Virginia.

"What did you do before the turn?"

"Just tried to keep my ass out of jail and followed my older brother around. He kept me safe, gave me a place to stay, and all I had to do was beat the hell out of a few guys or do some dealing for him." Daryl explained, his smile fading as he began to judge his former self one more time, thinking that he was truly a sorry jackass in the past. "I don't miss the way things were; I was made for this world, I can survive in it, until I don't anymore." He concluded, changing the tone of the conversation for only a moment before Paul took matters into his own hands.

"Hey, remember when I met you?" The younger man questioned.

"Who could forget the hell you put Rick and me through?" Daryl responded with his own question, Paul continued to silently drive for a few moments, thinking of what to say next.

"You smiled, you actually laughed, when you got back in the truck with Rick after you met me. Now you know how I knew you two weren't so bad and that I could get on that truck," Rovia began to explain as his ocean hues finally locked on Daryl's own while the older man furrowed his brow. Paul's eyes darted back to the road ahead as they drove, speeding past several walkers in a zigzag pattern along the road, and the archer nudged Jesus in the ribs with his arm.

"Careful!" Daryl demanded.

"Anyway, you seemed amused by what you had done, and I used my tricks from the past to get out of those ropes. Tricks I just might teach you sometime; you'll need skills like that if you ever end up around Negan again," Rovia concluded. Just then, the familiar sound of gunfire blazed in the distance and two men jumped down from near by hills, holding sawed off shotguns pointed to Daryl and Jesus' heads.

* * *

 

"Well, what do we have here?" A husky voice asked, earning a laugh from other man blocking the two in the distance. Neither Jesus nor Daryl believed they were in immense danger; these guys weren't Saviors, both of them could tell. The Saviors had a different method of doing things, they were only show-offs when Negan was around, and they traveled quietly in large groups elsewhere. 

Daryl attempted to move for his bow. "Nuh-uh, not so fast," the more intimidating man spoke as he approached Daryl but Daryl held his own. He was ready to fight, shoot, and kill both of these attackers before they could be robbed of anything.

Jesus raised both of his hands up to show he was no harm. Daryl took Jesus' lead, doing the same, holding his hands at chest height like the other. "We mean no harm, we're on our way back to our group," Jesus began as he seemingly 'forgot' about the Saviors being back there, "We have nothing, found nothing, and there is nothing for miles. So unless you hunt --" he rambled, only to be silenced by the other man.

"Shut the hell up and gimme your ammo," The man barked, he let him get just close enough to give Daryl a signal to get his bow, Daryl did just that and shot the weaker of the two men in the wrist causing blood to gush. 

"I don't think so." Rovia spoke calmly just as the man aimed to fire at Daryl, he knocked the gun out of the man's hands with a tornado kick to the nose. The impact was so hard, he knocked the man out instantly, as blood gushed down from his nostrils. The bone inside his nasal cavity had been forced into the man's brain, killing him, or at the very least knocking him out until reanimation could take hold.

The other man screamed in pain as he bled out there on the dirty, gravel road. Daryl looked over him with pity as he picked up the man's gun, shooting him in the head, before tossing the gun down next to the sorry son-of-a-bitch. Paul felt his blood run cold again as he watched Daryl easily murder yet another human but he shook the feeling, he knew Daryl still had some goodness left in him, even if it felt like hope could be lost on him in the end.

* * *

 "You didn't have to kill him, Daryl," Rovia began as his ocean hues locked on the other's icy cold blue eyes, as Daryl shook his head. 

"No, I did, he's attractin' a herd of walkers. Let's get outta here before we're eaten," Daryl explained, he could see a group of walkers coming down from the hills, some landing face first onto the ground as they made their way over to the two men. Daryl and Paul took off into the distance, continuing their ride, for as long as they could before stopping briefly at a gas station. One similar to the one where the men originally met. 

"Oh, I have fond memories of Gas Stations with you," Paul admitted with a laugh, Daryl grumbled then walked over to the snack machine out front, as he looked back at the other to 'do the honors'.

Paul kicked through the glass, it shattered to the ground into a crumbled heap, as Daryl pulled out several bags of chips and a few sweet snacks for the road. Donuts, honey buns, and Moon Pies were the target. Especially the chocolate Moon Pies that still looked edible. "Here," Daryl spoke softly as he handed the other a pack of cheese crackers, along with a pack of powdered donuts. "That should keep you from gettin' hungry for the next hour or so til we're back," Daryl continued. Paul opened the donuts and took a bite of one as he watched the man fill up the motorcycle with gas. 

"Anything else we'll need?" Jesus questioned.

"We're good to go, let's get the hell outta here before we run into more trouble," Daryl stated, Rovia got on the back of the bike this time so Daryl could drive them back since they were merely less than thirty miles out of Alexandria by that point.

* * *

 

"Tell me about her," Jesus asked, wanting to know more about Beth. He wondered what she was like, what she looked like, and how she got to almost be with such a troubled yet good soul. "Beth. Tell me what she was like." Paul concluded, watching Daryl's reaction as he drove, one arm wrapped around Daryl's middle as his hand rested over Daryl's chest. He could feel the other man's heart rate increasing as time moved on, moments passing them by like the trees blowing in the cool wind, which felt nice until Daryl's hair started smacking Paul in the face.

He looked away and squinted his eyes to not be hit again, but at least he was clean. "She was the daughter of a veterinarian named Hershel, he saved Carl's life, and died when a Prison we were all staying in was taken over by some twisted son of a bitch," Daryl began to tell the story, his breath hitching for a moment as he looked back on his memories, as it felt like it had happened only days prior. "He was killed, head cut off right in front of his two daughters, but they carried on. The Prison fell, Maggie left and I was stuck with Beth, so we took off on our own." Daryl continued.

"Is that all?" Jesus asked, Daryl shook his head while keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

"No, after, we ended up at a place kind of like the one where I grew up. A rickety old brown shack, total trash lived in that place, and it smelled of booze and cat piss." Daryl admitted. "Hell, it probably smelled like my own after I peed in the kitchen while I was drunk on the moonshine we found." Daryl added, a smile forming onto his lips for only a second until he caught Paul grinning in the mirror.

"Would ya quit it?"

"Carry on; Don't mind me."

"Oh, _I mind_."

"Just tell the story!" Jesus exclaimed, sounding annoyed which proved Daryl's point that he could get on the other's nerves too when he wanted.

"After we get there, we get drunk and I have a break down so we drink more. Beth wanted to see what being drunk was like, she said she understood how someone could enjoy it, and numb the pain with booze. She understood her dad's issues, that was when I knew we had something deeper in common," Daryl confessed, a distant look taking over as he thought back on the night at the 'moonshine shack' before they took off the next day. "We burnt the place down, took off into the night, and camped out in the woods so I could teach her to use my crossbow. She was a quick learner, strong, and determined. I liked that about her a lot; even if she didn't really know it." He concluded.  
Paul still wasn't satisfied, he felt like something was missing and that Daryl wasn't telling him something, so he decided to get the info out himself. "What do you think she thought of you, Daryl?" He inquired curiously.

"I think we were friends, we could've had somethin' and I know I would've settled down with her, if I coulda. She died though and I feel like Negan would have taken her the way he took Glenn." Daryl calmly explained, the overwhelming guilt of it all being his fault taking over as he slowed the bike down again to a stop. Turning the ignition off as he sat there.

A moment later, he got up and kicked at the ground as he began to cry in grief over the loss of both of them, Jesus remained on the bike watching the other as he didn't know what to do. However, something - an instinct perhaps - lead him to stand up and walk over to the other man. "Don't fight it," Jesus spoke softly, wrapping his arms around Daryl's middle from behind, and though he tensed up for a moment while shedding tears over his lost loved ones - he didn't push Paul away. His arms felt like Beth's, in a sense, like a magnet pulling him in. So he stood still, he didn't fight, but insted he turned around and laid his head down onto Paul's shoulder. "No matter what you might think, none of this was your fault, whoever killed them is to blame - not you. Their blood was never on your hands, Daryl."

"It is my fault, Rovia. I'm not a good man like you think." Daryl sobbed, Paul stroked the other man's hair with his free hand and kept the other arm around his middle. "I'm not."

"You're so, so wrong! If you were like Negan or that man you said that cut off Beth's father's head, you'd be a bad man. That's a psychotic killer. You're nothing like that, you care and you have a warm heart under that stoic, rugged exterior." Rovia explained, Daryl looked down into the other man's eyes and reminded himself of how strikingly beautiful they were. They were the same shade of blue as Beth's; it was almost comforting to think about. Carol and Rick also had those same, bright blue shades in their eyes. So, now, Paul Rovia was beginning to feel a little more like home to the younger Dixon brother.

"Are you okay to keep going or should we set up camp for a bit?" Paul asked, Daryl walked back over to the bike and got on the back. If he was to begin crying again, he knew he didn't want Paul to see him, even if he suspected that he would. As soon as Paul straddled the bike, Daryl handed over the key, and tossed aside the food wrapper left by Paul.

"Let's keep going. We'll be there soon."


End file.
